


(Fear) The Reaper

by DoreyG



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Child Death, Gen, Ghosts, Trick or Treat: Trick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 15:41:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21056828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: It's not fair.





	(Fear) The Reaper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rosencrantz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosencrantz/gifts).

It's not fair.

It's not fair that they're still allowed to do this, that they're still allowed to send children out without a thought. They give them a Pokemon and a pat on the head, and act like that makes the abandonment okay. 

They probably don't even wonder what happens afterwards. About the children quickly lost in the woods just outside their town, heading steadily further in the wrong direction. About the ones who lose their first few battles, and are stuck in the middle of nowhere with a dying Pokemon and a clenching stomach. About the ones who never really wanted a gym badge, who just wanted to do what was expected of them, and ended up watching the sky fade away above with the whispers of those already dead around them.

(Some live, after all, some live and thrive and win and brush away the ghosts of those that could not as they stride onwards to their glorious victory. It's just survival of the fittest, and there's no need to spare a thought for those who aren't fit.)

It's not fair.

It's not _fair_. It's not fair that they're still allowed to do this, to shove their unprepared children out into the wilds without a care. It's not fair, that they're allowed to think of it as a fun adventure while their children are dying. It's not _fair_, that they're allowed to forget them as they die in thick forests and behind rotting trees and under bare branches stretching mournfully towards the sky.

And every year there are more of them. Every year there are more dead children, charmed by thoughts of glory and left to perish on blankets of leaves.That's one good thing, at least, one positive about the fact that they're murdering their own children. Every year there are more of them, every year their numbers grow. At first confused and then terrified and then burningly furious in a way that can't be lied about, denied or ignored.

It's not fair. But soon, very soon, it's not going to be very fair for them either.


End file.
